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Authors: Cat Adams

BOOK: Magic's Design
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I
t was difficult enough for Tal to keep his feet, much less refrain from screaming his indignation at Kris. The best he could do was pause for a long moment and stare at his boots while his face grew hot and sweaty. He swallowed to return the hot acid to where it belonged in his stomach. He knew the others were listening, and he still had no guarantee that they weren’t criminals themselves. But he couldn’t simply walk out of the room to continue the conversation. It might imply some sort of guilt. “Obviously, there’s been some sort of mistake. You don’t believe I’d be involved in something like that, do you?”
The answer was at least slightly reassuring. “Certainly … not. But you realize … the problem, yes?”
Tal nodded and let out a slow breath. “Even if Commander Sommersby is somehow involved, nobody would dare stand up and accuse him. And a trace of magic energy at the scene of the breakout will find my, Alexy’s, and Sela’s signatures. Couple that with Sela’s report, and our word won’t mean much, eh?”
“Pre … cisely. I’m sorry … Tal. The best I can … offer you is to fight for you down here. Try to find … evidence of someone lying.”
He shook his head. “I don’t want you involved, Kris. If you start digging, you could wind up behind the bars, instead of guarding them.”
The abrupt burst of noise could have been a laugh. “Give me some … credit, brother. I’ve already prepared … memory potion. Even I won’t remember this talk. But I’ve taken notes that I’ll leave for myself at … home. And nobody would ever think to … look for evidence where I’m speaking to you from.”
He tried to imagine where in Rohm nobody would look for Kris. She was a fixture of the best shops and knew every restaurant owner in the city. “Where are you?”
Another burst of laughter. “Dressing room of … bridal fitter. Surprisingly good shielding in these places.”
Why on earth would a wedding seamstress need shields on the dressing rooms? But he had to admit that nobody would
ever
expect to find his sister there. She’d had both boyfriends and girlfriends in the past, but she was married to her job and considered personal liaisons a form of cheating. It was actually brilliant.
He was surprised to hear a comment from inside the room, reminding him that he was being overheard. It was Candy who spoke, to Mila. “That makes perfect sense. I suppose in a magic society you’d want to prevent jilted exes from cursing a dress or a woman making herself irresistible. Pretty smart, really.”
“Do I hear voices … Tal? Is someone lis … tening in?”
He sighed and shot an annoyed look at the women, who bit lips and blushed apologetically. “I’m at a house topside where Sela lived with a hu … another Guilder.” It was only fair to identify them properly. It might be an outcast guild, but there was no question they were magicwielders, and quite possibly crafters.
“Didn’t know … Sela had a … home in the overworld. Glad you have some … help. Is there anything you … need from me before I go back?”
Tal thought back to the questions he and Alexy had raised upstairs. “Yes, actually. Find out if Sela’s family has had a change in their standard of living in the past two years that can’t be easily explained. Anything outside of inheritances or job changes. You know the right questions. Then, find out if there have been any gatemaking rings broken up by any of the palaces. The gate into Sela’s room had to be cast by someone down below. Finally, see if you can get me a list of any guildercents in the Denver area. Maybe Vegre managed to enhance someone.”
He heard Mila whisper an aside to her grandmother, “Guildercent?”
The answer was also whispered, again telling Tal that Nadia had once lived among his people. “A human with varying percentages of magic parentage. We once lived side by side after all, and passion infects us all equally.”
He was surprised when Mila looked to him for verification. He dipped his head once, not really sure why it was important to him that she understand more about his people. But it was. “Oh, and run a search for my battle glove down there. I’ll be interested to see if there’s been any sign of it
after
Alexy and I left Rohm.”
“Was it taken from you in battle?”
“I threw it through the gate in this world after cloaking it. If it shows up at all there, we’ll get some idea of where they went when they left here.” He itched the skin near his mark. The continued discussion this way was making it burn. He could see wisps of smoke as the heat singed his arm hairs. If he didn’t stop soon, the skin would blacken and it would be a week or more before he could communicate this way again. But he didn’t dare touch it directly. The spell was delicate enough, especially with Kris doing it under cover of shielding. Any disruption could break the connection. But Great Holy Tree, it was getting harder to concentrate.
“That wasn’t very … smart, brother. Not only will it tie you closer to the criminals if found by … wrong people, but being without a focus with a mage of Vegre’s abilities on the loose … could kill you.”
He shrugged, even though she couldn’t see it. “All I could think of on short notice. I’ll find a rock shop in town to get a temporary crystal.”
Kris snorted, making his skin vibrate. “Hardly a substitute for a battle-proven stone. The only decent flawless stones are ones … humans wear as decoration. You’ll either have to steal one or luck into it without a pile of overworld currency.”
Mila’s face grew animated and he turned to stare. She cupped a hand to her grandmother’s ear and excitedly whispered something. It was too quiet to make it out, but her grandmother smiled and patted her hand, causing Mila to leave the room rather suddenly. He wasn’t sure he liked that, but he didn’t follow or stop her. It made no sense that he trusted these people, but he couldn’t seem to help himself.
“I’ll manage. But we’re going to have to stop talking soon. A memory potion won’t do much to erase scorch marks on your skin.”
“True enough. Be very careful, brother. You won’t hear from me again until I sift through … my notes enough to realize I must have talked to you. I’ll try to find out the information and reach you … somehow unless … blows over before that.”
In Kris’s usual style, as soon as she was done speaking, she ended the conversation. No closing, no notice. His arm simply stopped burning and the red glow diminished. But with the thousand questions that kept swirling around in his mind, it wasn’t until one of the women cleared her throat that he remembered that he was standing motionless, staring at his forearm.
Apparently, they were waiting for him to do or say something. But there was nothing
to
say—at least not until he had a long discussion with Alexy.
Candy stared at him. Giving a delicate cough she nodded in Mila’s direction. She’d apparently returned while he was distracted.
Until that moment he had honestly forgotten why they’d come back to the kitchen. Too much was happening, too fast. Kris’s news, in particular, had shaken him to the core. Still, there was nothing for it but to soldier on. “My pardon, Mila.” He swallowed, hard. “While I must follow the trail of my glove, I believe it is prudent for my partner to stay here, and guard the gate.” Candy’s eyes, narrowed, so he hastily added, “With your permission, of course.”
Nadia Penkin started to wrap a vivid red cloak around herself, embroidered with white and yellow runes. “You know my feelings on this, Mila.” She gave a delicate sniff before turning away from the younger woman as she picked up a large carpetbag.
Mila sighed and shook her head as if she were weary of arguing. “Fine. He can stay. There’s not much in the fridge, but he can help himself to what’s there. Do you have any leads on Sela and Vegre?”
“I’ve activated the tracking spell. It should be easy enough to follow. The images were quite clear, so they haven’t gone far.”
“You should’ve seen it.” Candy spoke admiringly. “I could actually watch the whole scene in the flames, and I could hear the voices. It looked like one of the clinics, or maybe a hospital.”
Nadia turned, giving Tal a look that showed renewed respect. “Well done, Mage.
Very
well done.”
Tal met her eyes without squirming. In truth, he’d been surprised himself that he’d been able to capture sound. He’d never been able to before. Then again, this was his battle glove he was tracking. Perhaps that was it. Then again … he shook his head. No. It was his imagination. There was nothing about this place, or these people, that would make his magic stronger.
The old woman’s expression grew thoughtful, with just a hint of amusement. “Interesting. It might be that Mila has finally come into her power. It happens at different times for all of us. But it also may be that your magic strengthens each other’s. Lifecraft is often drawn to firecraft, like a moth to a flame.” She looked at him from underneath a thick woolen cap. “Tell me, Mage—did you feel overheated during the healing? As though you would burst into flame?”
He shook his head. The grandmother was a worldly woman, but he didn’t want to admit what he had been feeling at the time. It was even worse when Mila pushed open the door and their eyes met. Once again he could feel her magic push against him, slide through his clothing as though it wasn’t there. “I can say that I felt heated, to be sure.”
Mila smiled almost shyly. Stepping to within a foot of him she held out her hand. It took some effort to pull his gaze from her heart-shaped face and deep green eyes to look into her open palm. But when he did, he couldn’t resist reaching out his hand to touch the object she held. The domed slab of blue-white stone was set in a frame of pure gold and covered most of her small palm. But what intrigued him were the swirls of colors that swept across the face of the gem—cobalt blue, rich crimson, and orange the color of an autumn sunrise. He could feel the energy of the stone. The activation spell still worked and it called to his magic, began to glow like a rainbow as it filled itself with residual energy. He could smell the colors, like individual petals of a flower. “Where under the world did you find a fire opal that size? It’s absolutely perfect, and looks like it was intended to be set in a focus glove.”
“I don’t know anything about focus gloves, but you mentioned needing a loose gemstone, and I had this one upstairs in my jewelry box. I don’t remember where I got it, but I’ve had it for years.”
“It was her mother’s focus, and her grandfather’s before.” Nadia’s voice reflected a pride that Tal couldn’t help but mirror when he heard the next words. “Sylvia has both Parask and Mage blood in her veins. The Bakus line were well respected firecrafters during my time.”
He felt his brows raise and he couldn’t keep his voice from cracking just a bit from the sudden dryness of his throat. “Was Vladimir Bakus one of your ancestors? The hero of the Ural wars?” He directed the question to Mila, but she just shrugged. It was her grandmother who answered.
“Sadly, Mila would not know. What little she knew of her Guilder ancestry was probably removed in the spell. But yes—her maternal grandfather, five removed, was indeed Craftmaster Bakus of the mage’s guild. This was
his
focus stone.”
Alexy took that moment to walk in the room, and let out a low whistle at the stone, still glowing nearly a handsbreadth tall in Mila’s palm. “Bloody hell, Tal. Where’d that focus come from? It’s as big as the commander’s.”
“Belongs to the ladies, it seems.” He motioned to Mila. “She comes down from the Bakus mage line. This was the very focus he wore.” Alexy whistled low with raised brows and dipped his head to Mila almost reverently. He might be a dirtdog, but every schoolchild in Agathia had read the old bard tales of the Ural battles between the two mage houses—the Sima, where Bakus crafted, and the Terel, where Vegre’s forefathers wove their evil. It was long before the guilds were established and one of the primary reasons why they were formed. Hearing that would go a long way to convincing Alexy that the women had more to offer than if they were merely soul-conjurers. But Tal still was reluctant to mention it, at least not until his friend had seen something positive about their craft.
Alexy furrowed his brow. “Um … could I talk to you for a moment first?”
He nodded and touched Mila’s hand. “It’s a lovely stone. Thank you for showing me.” He’d turned to follow Alexy out to the next room when she grabbed his arm.
“Wait. You don’t understand. This is for you … to replace the stone you lost. Your sister said you should have one and, well, it’s just been sitting in a drawer in my room. It’s a gift.”
Both he and Alexy froze, crowded together under the door header, and turned their heads in near unison. If the look of shock on his own face was anything like Alexy’s, they looked like fools indeed. “You can’t be serious. That’s a powerful heirloom stone. I could never—”
Nadia nodded her head sharply. “Mila asked my permission. We have no more mage crafters in our line. But I understand your reluctance, and would feel the same. If you would prefer, consider using the stone temporarily, until you recover yours.”
Alexy nudged him in the ribs. “That’s a hell of an offer. This would crack that diamond of his right in half with that iron will of yours behind the blast. Imagine … the opal that took down the whole Terel clan. Vegre would shake in his boots.”

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